


Ignorari Posse

by obskurial



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, just a casual talk, real casual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:25:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9335117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obskurial/pseuds/obskurial
Summary: Two times Gellert Grindelwald visited Percival Graves and the one time he didn't.





	

“Tiptoe by the window, by the window, that is where I’ll be.” A deep voice with a drawl that seemed to hang in the air like fog crept into the room. It clung to everything with its chilling calmness, the innocence of the song twisted and manipulated by the voice that had casted so many unforgivable curses, that committed so many murders. “Come tiptoe through the tulips with **_me_**.” There’s a pause at the door, Grindelwald wanting to simply draw this out as long as possible, after all he had no where to be.

With a hushed charm the door was swept open, Gellert just barely crossing the threshold into the cold dark room. He had made sure to strip away any luxuries for the Director of Magical Security, the man would have to earn those through sacrifices. Ones that Grindelwald knew he wouldn’toffer up anytime soon, and even when he did it would be out of necessity rather than any sort of favor for him.

It had been a week since he had captured the wizard, a full seven days actually, and they had both felt every minute- every _second_ of it ticking away. Slipping into the other’s skin was not as easy as anticipated in some aspects. Not with Percival fighting him every step of the way when it came to learning what he was supposed to know. The mannerisms were off but with every sideways glance Gellert was perfecting his guise, not that there was much _to_ perfect. Walk with more confidence than he deserved and give out stern instructions, that seemed to be all he needed. The longer this went on the harder it would become for MACUSA to truly differentiate who was Percival Graves and who Gellert Grindelwald was. The only area he could possibly slip up- and he was convinced he wouldn’t -lied within the legilimen. Queenie Goldstein, he had learned her name after scrounging up some worker files on the woman, would in fact be a problem. Unfortunately his only solution to this conflict was that he simply had to stay far away from her, there was no masking his thoughts after all, and simply killing her would be _sloppy._

Apparently Graves didn’t allow work to follow him home, or at least he simply did his job well enough for it not to linger in the lavish townhouse. He had no colleagues from work come knocking on his door, no significant other that seemed to be making him dinner every night. No, he lived quite a quiet life once outside the iron grip of MACUSA, something that Grindelwald delighted in. He was _free_ to use his own face, to use his own voice, he was released from the body that trapped him during the day in its too broad shoulders, and too stern facial expressions. With its muscles tensed ready for a fight at any moment, and stiff movements, it felt like a prison in itself. With the curtains drawn even if he did have visitors for some unforeseen emergency he could quickly just transfigure back into the man he held captive with a hushed spell and a few minutes stalling.

“That pesky little tune,” He tutted as his eyes fell on the shriveled figure of Graves, the man’s body pressed into the wall as though it could provide some shelter from his abuser. “It’s been stuck in my head all day…” He watched the man, their eyes meeting for a brief moment and- oh it was still there what a pleasant little surprise. That fire of hatred and _fight,_ the look of a man who wanted to murder him in the most violent of ways, no magic involved simply fist to flesh, bone crunching violence. It would die away soon enough however, it always did Grindelwald had come to discover, and once that fire was snuffed out Percival Graves would be a different man for better or worse. He had some time until then however, and that small window was always a fun game of cat and mouse that Gellert found delight in drawing out. 

“I have a few questions for you today, nothing too hard I promise.” The subject that was currently plaguing the dark wizard’s mind, the thing that had gone as far as to trigger a vision while he was trying to simply get by as Mr. Graves while still present at MACUSA, was a boy. Well less of a boy and more of a young man even if he didn’t carry the posture to show it- _Credence Barebone_. He had scrounged up the files of the New Salem exposure case that was still fresh on the director’s desk and read over it. Tina Goldstein had caused quite the stir, but it seemed she wasn’t the only one interested in the poor Salem boy. It was apparent that Percival had some sort of partnership with the boy, a mutual relationship that required some form of trust because when he happened upon the boy on the street- 34th to be exact- he had asked when they could meet again. There was no mention of Percival having any relation, any _knowledge_ even about the boy, in the case file, only that he had been the one to obliviate him at the scene. This was a lie however because Grindelwald had seen a hunger and desperation in the young man’s eyes during their run in that he knew all too well, a starvation that could have only formed from the lack of their dear Mr. Grave’s disappearance. Gellert knew he could sate that hunger too, that with the right touches, and delicately placed words he could satisfy him, it would just take a bit of information from Percival. 

Graves had learned it was best to keep his mouth shut until he was _forced_ to open it. Bitter remarks wouldn’t get him out of that room, they wouldn’t feed him, they wouldn’t hurt Grindelwald, but instead they seemed to always come back and haunt him. So he sat in the corner, knees pulled up to his chest, eyes now glued to the wall in front of him after the brief eye contact, the only protest he was allowed without punishment.

“Well not **too** hard so long as you don’t make it that way, Percival.” His voice seems to linger in the air, the threat clear as glass as he moved to lean against the doorframe, eyes creeping over every inch of the director’s body.“Who’s the squib to you?”

“The squib?” Thick eyebrows are drawn together by confusion. 

“The second salemer.” A tension fills the air that is almost enough to answer the question for Grindelwald. Almost. It allows him to make the connection but what’s the fun in that? Where’s the satisfaction of getting to hear the other spell it out for him? There isn’t any to be quite frank. And more so it doesn’t send the message it ought to.“ _Credence_ was his name I believe.” And oh it was like poison coming from his mouth for Graves, Gellert could see the way his hands balled into fists, the way he screwed his eyes shut. “What’s Credence to you, Percy?” He sounded like a psychiatrist trying to work Graves’s mind open, trying to poke around and flesh out anything he could get his grimy hands on. 

“He’s no one.” A lie that he could only pray Grindelwald would fall for. 

“I doubt that.” Grindelwald sees the flinch that rivets the man’s face for a brief moment, a wolfish grin crossing his own.

“He’s no one.” Graves repeated the line, he couldn’t say anything else, not without putting the boy in danger, without betraying everything he had said to him. That he would keep him _safe,_ that no one would hurt him under his watch. It began to dawn on the man that the pain he went through to give up just a few of the MACUSA’s secrets would be nothing compared to the sheer agony he would face before giving up any information on his boy.

“You must’ve seen the look in the poor soul’s eyes once or twice. I think we both know he’s not just _no one_ to you.” There’s a complete lack of interest as he spills out this information, spreading it out very clearly for Graves. He’s truly trying to make it easier for the man, to give him a chance to be of some help for once, and yet? It felt like a personal insult that the man wouldn’t take the bait. He received the same bold faced lie from the ex-director, a heavy sigh escaping him. It was no better than a slap to the face from his prisoner, his features dropping despite the slight delight he felt rising in his chest. The more difficult Percival was after all, the more fun he was allotted in **taking** the answers from him. “Alright, Mr. Graves, we can do this your way if you so wish.” 

There was a hushed charm, the room suddenly blasted into light as the heavy door shut behind Gellert he couldn’t have the sound of Mr. Graves’ choices escaping after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys like this style or just want to see more of this please feel free to find me on tumblr and come chat! My URL is cmurphys. Thanks for taking the time to read this.


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